


Perks

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Ficlet, M/M, PWP, Sex Work, Threesome - M/M/M, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 09:50:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4560066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bofur has an awesome job. Fíli and Kíli make it better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MocaJava](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MocaJava/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Bofur has been a concubine to the royal family for his entire adult life, serving not only Thorin but all those of the royal family. It's considered a very prestigious position and a great honor by Dwarves to be chosen” prompt on [the Hobbit Kink Meme](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/14338.html?thread=26191106#t26191106).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Bofur _loves_ his job. He loved it when he was first chosen by Thrór to serve an older Thráin and a young, handsome Thorin, with Frerin and Dís whenever they so chose. Thorin took him the most, strong and virile, and Bofur always adored that, whether it be in the plush sheets of Thorin’s royal bed or hard against the ground of the fighting pits. Even when the dragon came and they were all forced away, he was kept by Thorin’s side, and he treasured his position. Even with Erebor fallen, his job’s no less an honour. Thorin is no less a gracious host. Bofur has a plethora of fond memories, walking about the royal kingdom in nothing but jewels: presents from his lords that liked to see him dressed for the occasion. But he still enjoys himself now, with the royal line ever expanding and Bofur still in employ. 

He was delighted when Fíli first came of age. Fíli’s as insatiable as his uncle, as fierce as his mother, and he takes Bofur often, when his elders aren’t already holding Bofur in their beds. Tonight is one of those where Thorin’s on the road and Dís is with her husband, Frerin in his own home and Fíli left the king of their small castle. He takes Bofur now in hard, quick thrusts, arms wrapped under his. Fíli sits back against his headboard, Bofur in his lap but facing out, rocking back on Fíli’s thick cock. Fíli’s as well-endowed as all his line, inexperienced but learning fast and eager, a generous lover when he has enough of his senses intact. His soft beard scrapes over Bofur’s shoulder, wet mouth open against Bofur’s skin, golden hair tickling his neck. Bofur rides his prince’s cock with a practiced ease and the occasional moan. Fíli is _beautiful_ , but also sweet and long, and it’s a true delight to please him. 

But it’s never _just_ Fíli. Fíli tries to get them both away, hiding here and there and bending Bofur over strange places, but to enjoy his own bed, he runs the risk of sharing. Their home isn’t a fraction of the size of Erebor, and Fíli must share a room. Usually, he’ll send Kíli away with whatever excuse, but tonight, it hasn’t worked. The door pushes open, Kíli’s pretty face pokes in, lit with the flickering candlelight. Bofur, never particularly bothered by an audience, waits for Fíli’s lead. Fíli stops, buried to the hilt, and hisses, “Kíli!”

Kíli looks at Bofur in awe, first at his face, then his chest, then his lap, where his cock arches proudly off his stomach, hard and nearly leaking. It takes Kíli a noticeable moment to make it to his brother’s eyes, and then he blushes and pouts, retorting hotly, “Why do you always get all the fun?”

Kíli’s old enough now. He isn’t shy, but he is polite, and he hasn’t approached Bofur yet, so Bofur hasn’t come. He’s known from passing looks that Kíli _wants_ him—a boost of confidence in itself—but this is the first time he’s put up a fuss over it. Bofur can practically hear the scowl in Fíli’s voice when he insists, “At least wait your turn.”

Kíli’s pouts deepens. It goes from petty to adorable, then downright unbearable, and Bofur can feel the hesitation in Fíli’s body. Over his shoulder, Bofur murmurs, “I don’t mind.” Fíli wrinkles his nose.

But he gives in, sighing, “ _Fine_ , you can watch. But shut the door.” Kíli grins widely and obeys. 

He scrambles over quickly, small and lithe by Dwarven standards, but there’s dark stubble around his mouth and down his chin, and his hair’s grown past his shoulders. He climbs onto the bed, eyes now on Bofur, and Bofur can’t stop his smile. He’s younger than their uncle, but certainly older than them, and it’s a relief that his princes still find him attractive. He’s still in good condition for a dwarf, but they’re both _beautiful_ , artful beyond compare. 

Kíli asks, voice almost breathless with anticipation, “Can I touch you?”

“Anywhere you like,” Bofur answers, throwing in a wink. Kíli smiles, lifting one hand, and Fíli starts up again, suddenly grinding in to stab against Bofur’s prostate. Bofur hisses, turning his face, and Fíli kisses his cheek, half pulling out. While Fíli returns to vigorously fucking him, Kíli tentatively runs stout fingers along his mustache, then down his braids, coarse against his bare skin. Bofur wears nothing for moments like this, when he wants to feel them _everywhere_ , and Fíli’s down to just his trousers, but Kíli’s still fully clothed. Bofur’s yet to see him otherwise. With his fingers still around one braid, Kíli presses forward, giving Bofur a chaste kiss.

Bofur kisses back and darts out a tongue to lick across his lips, making Kíli mewl and shiver. Another kiss comes, this one open-mouthed, Kíli’s tongue moving dazedly around and Bofur’s quickly taming it, guiding Kíli into place. Kíli moans against him, arching up, and Bofur only grinds back. He doesn’t want to fall back lest he flatten Fíli against the headboard. Fíli clutches tight to Bofur’s hips, still going. 

When their mouths part, Kíli asks, “Can you fuck me, too?”

“ _Kíli_ ,” Fíli snaps. But Kíli looks determined, and Bofur knows too well what Durins are like when they get like that. It’s Bofur that Kíli looks at.

Bofur would chuckle, but Fíli fucks the laughter out of him, and he explains more hoarsely, “I’m not sure your brother will want to wait for the preparation we’d need for that.” He’s taken two cocks at once before, but it’s not an easy task. 

Kíli looks confused, and merely whines, “But I’m already wet.”

It’s Bofur’s turn to mumble, “Oh,” and then, “I’m sorry I presumed,” and then he goes silent, because Fíli’s grinding in, deliberately making his job hard. Kíli blushes, bright red against his dark hair. 

He nuzzles his face into Bofur’s, his tunic crinkling against Bofur’s chest, and pleads, “You’ll take me, then? Please?” Bofur threads one hand into his soft hair, pulling him in for a kiss, all wet tongue in Kíli’s open mouth, and around it, Kíli moans, “ _Please?_ I’ve thought about it for so long, about you, I want my turn, and _I’m so wet for you_...”

There’s more to it than that, but Bofur can’t resist running his other hand down Kíli’s side, all the same. He squeezes Kíli’s ass, round but firm. If Fíli doesn’t want to share, Bofur will wait until they’re done, but perhaps he can finger Kíli in the meantime. Kíli’s hips rock wantonly against Bofur’s, his legs entangled with his brother’s, all three of them in a heap and the covers a mess about them. With his hand gripping Kíli’s tight ass, Bofur looks over his shoulder, trying to catch Fíli’s eye. 

Fíli slows, then stills, pushing forward to hold himself inside, and he sighs an inevitable, “Alright.” Bofur grins, but not nearly so wide as Kíli. 

Kíli’s up on his knees in no time, shoving his trousers right down his thighs, and Bofur lifts the edges of his tunic to get a peek at his cut pussy. His dark curls are trimmed neatly, just like his beard and the hair of his legs, his pink lips moist and soft between them. When Bofur rubs his palm against it, fingers curling under, Kíli _moans_ , bucking forward, and Bofur can feel the slick juices in his hand. Kíli’s warm and quivering, and Bofur’s first finger pops in easily. Kíli keens, bucking up. This’ll probably be his first cock, but it’s clearly not his first hand, and he’ll have toys, like most dwarves. Dís’ sons are particularly energetic, particular _feisty_ , and Bofur isn’t surprised to find Kíli so desperate for it now. He takes a second finger with only a garbled whimper, and Fíli squirms in waiting behind Bofur, clinging tighter to Bofur’s middle. He grunts, “Hurry,” against Bofur’s neck and nips at Bofur’s shoulder, while Kíli snuggles against Bofur’s jaw. The two of them are wondrous, smelling and sounding of sex with barely one full outfit between them. He’s fantasized about taking them together more than once, but never hoped to ask. Now he has Kíli thrusting forward onto his fingers, and Fíli moaning, “ _Please_ ,” in his ear.

Rock-hard though he is, Bofur’s careful, making sure that Kíli’s properly stretched before he lifts the young prince’s hips. Kíli squirms in them, trying to drop down, but Bofur guides them slowly together, his cock pushing at Kíli’s open folds. The first pop inside makes him pause, sucking in a pleasant breath. Kíli’s head tosses back, mouth letting out a hoarse cry. Kíli’s hips grind into Bofur’s ass, but Bofur holds steady, dropping Kíli down one fraction at a time. 

It takes a remarkably short time to get them all together, Kíli sitting fully in his lap and Bofur’s ass squished up against Fíli’s cock. Fíli’s is a tighter squeeze, but Kíli’s nonetheless amazing for his looseness; the wetness and the heat are perfection, made better by Kíli’s quivering and the uncontrollable rock of his hips. He can’t seem to stop thrusting himself onto Bofur. He wraps his arms around Bofur’s neck, pushing Fíli back, and tries to bounce up and down on Bofur’s cock, making his own juices squelch. Fíli groans loud, then pulls half out to slam inside, nearly tossing Bofur forward. 

Bofur hardly has to do a thing. He likes to pleasure his hosts, likes to flex his skill, but crushed in the middle, they do it all. Fíli pounds wildly into him, Kíli writhing on his cock, their rhythm uneven but blissful: one spasm of pleasure after the other. Fíli, having fucked Bofur long before this started, gives a sudden shove so hard that Bofur’s knocked down, crushing Kíli to the mattress. Bofur’s weight lands atop him, his legs spread wide in the air with his fat thighs against Bofur’s stomach, Bofur scrambling to all fours to keep from trampling Kíli. Fíli just keeps going, leaning over Bofur’s back and panting like a beast, fucking him relentlessly. He does most of the work, grinding Bofur into Kíli, but Kíli’s as hardy as his brother and still moves, squirming and clenching and kissing, licking, nipping everywhere he can, when Bofur isn’t filling his mouth and stealing all his air. 

Fíli has impressive stamina, but he’s the first to come, shoving those final throes into Bofur’s ass and bending forward to dig his teeth into Bofur’s shoulder. His scream is muffled, his hips going hard. He stays buried to the hilt, and Bofur squeezes to milk it all out, taking the familiar rush of seed deep inside him. He doesn’t stop his own movements. He pleasures Kíli as best he can, turning all his attention there, and it jostles Fíli’s spent body, until Fíli pulls out with a groan to leave Bofur’s ass gaping open. 

Still, Bofur goes, Kíli joining last but fresh and new and already flushed—it doesn’t take long. Bofur fucks him hard but well, and finally, Kíli cries out, arching up and clinging to Bofur with trembling thighs and scraping hands, his face digging into the jut of Bofur’s neck. Bofur can feel his little prince spill around him, gushing hot and quivering inside. Bofur goes on while Kíli has anything left to take, and then he slows, stopping and biting his cheek to hold back. 

It takes considerable effort to push off of Kíli, but Bofur does. He pulls his hard cock out of Kíli’s wet pussy, dragging all Kíli’s juices. Kíli whines, murmuring, “But—”

“Don’t be silly,” Fíli chuckles, hoarse and satisfied and wrapping around Bofur to grab his cock. “He can’t put his seed in you lest your body do something with it.” Kíli pouts but is clearly too dizzy to protest, and Fíli helps stroke Bofur to completion across the mattress. Fíli’s good with his hands, as most swordsmen are in Bofur’s experience. But Fíli’s hands are soft and fond, too, and it’s always a joy to come to them. Bofur finishes shortly, breathing hard and somewhat hazed-over—he holds up well, but two beautiful, rambunctious dwarves are a bit much, even for him. When he’s finished, he slumps, but doesn’t quite fall down. 

Fíli knocks him down. He’s rolled between them, one happy, half-naked prince on either side, grinning giddily and running curious hands over his bare body. He doesn’t always stay the night, but this time, he’s too spent to move. Kíli sighs happily, “Mum always said you were good,” and snuggles into his side. Fíli snorts but affectionately pats his brother’s head, reaching over Bofur’s sweaty chest. Fíli curls up to him just the same. 

And Bofur lies between them, thinking of the luckiness of his life and all his royal loves.


End file.
